Let’s face it. Privacy is dead. Our laundry is being aired whether dirty or not, and we can’t always pin the blame on social media. The last haven of modesty and decorum has slowly eroded to the point that now, even the doctor’s office is a berth of lax security and breech of trust that rattles my last remaining shred of dignity.
The invasion of privacy begins with the sign-in sheet where everyone in the world can see a paper trail of where I’ve been, and leave it to their imagination as to why I had to see the doc. The receptionist thinks nothing of shouting out personal questions from behind her window into the waiting room full of people eager to listen to the details.
Since skin cancer runs in my family, I had a suspicious spot investigated by my dermatologist. Later that week, a woman asked me if I had enjoyed having my “work done.” I looked confused, and she explained, “Well, I saw your name on the sign-in sheet and figured you had a little “work” (wink-wink). Of all the cotton – picking nerve! I was ticked-off until I realized . . . click HERE to finish the story.
I still go to one of those dentist’s offices with the private rooms. However the dentist is REALLY old, but I love the hygienist. I haven’t had to have dental work, so I have stayed with it, but I had already been thinking about the fact that I hated those all in one room deals. Yuk!
Get ready, it’s coming soon!
And now we have to worry who is in the bathrooms with us!
Hahahahaha! I’ve always worried about that!
You are speaking the truth…I love it when they ask your weight while your standing at the desk in their open waiting area or your phone number or your social security number. Enough already!
They always think it’s innocent to ask if I’m still living at*** address, and I think, “what kind of weirdo may be listening taking notes and come visit me sometime?”
And all the people said . . .
thanks for that Ellen!